


Teen Wolf - Sterek Collection

by Angeluscaligo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Caught, Crushes, Flirting, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Exhaustion, Mental Health Issues, Secret Crush, caught masturbating, self-care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeluscaligo/pseuds/Angeluscaligo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All drables, one-shots, prompts & suggested writings concerning DerekxStiles from teenWolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Busted Busting

**Author's Note:**

> After many months of unresponsive flirting from Derek's side, Derek is finally fed up with Stiles' dense behaviour and decides to make sure Stiles finally notices Derek advances unto him.
> 
> This is going to be where all prompts & short-stories concerning this ship will end up. So it will be different story-lines, character-arcs, etcetera... I will try to place the related stories directly after each other to keep some order & logic in the reading.

Derek had more than enough of this bullshit behaviour Stiles kept doing around him. In the past months, Derek had become certain that Stiles was more than simply into him, but the clumsy idiot somehow never caught on to Derek’s subtle flirting. Either he was too dense or he simply didn’t notice it, and it was driving Derek up the wall. Last time he tried flirting with Stiles, the idiot had completely ignored the more than obvious wink and it had taken Derek all his focus not to give him a good whack around the ears in the hope it’d make him finally notice. So Derek decided enough was enough. If subtle & not-so-subtle flirting wouldn’t do it, throwing it into Stiles’ face would have to do. He knew Stiles was coming around later that afternoon around three o’clock so Derek thought it perhaps more fun if he could make Stiles catch him jerking off on purpose. Perhaps throw in Stiles’ name during a deep moan, maybe even have an image of that adorable idiot show on his phone… Derek had planned it all out during the past week and he was finally about to begin. He had just showered & had been sure to strew his clothes in a trail from the door of the flat all the way to the bedroom, where the door was left standing open, slightly ajar. Just wide enough to give a glimpse of whatever could be happening on the king-sized bed against the opposite wall. Derek had already begun jerking off when he got a message from Stiles saying he would be there in five and the thought of Stiles finally seeing him like this turned him on more than he could have expected.

Normally, Derek was rather apprehensive about people in general, but the past years had opened him up to the absolutely adorable dork that Stiles was at almost any time. In the beginning, he had been the epitome of annoyance to Derek but after a few close calls, where he saved Stiles or vice versa, he had taken a genuine liking to the teen. And when his inner wolf had suddenly taken a notice to Stiles scent one day, when Stiles had been just about a month past eighteen, his feelings had become different. It became obvious that his wolf-side had begun to consider Stiles as a potential mate, even though he was still human. Stiles had always adamantly refused the bite and Derek somehow felt it was for the best. Stiles simply wouldn’t be Stiles if he were to become a werewolf as well. All his good traits lay rooted in the fact that he was still very much human and accordingly very fragile… Derek lay down on the bed, boxers just barely underneath his groin as he had pulled them down and begun stroking his sensitive spots while thinking of Stiles. He had seen the teen almost naked a fair few times, in fugitive glimpses and voyeuristic observations through bedroom windows. It had begun when he took up the habit of inspecting every member and ally of his pack, but in the case of Stiles, it had become different. He came to love watching the private moments Stiles had in the comfort of his bedroom, how he could sometimes sing along on loud music or start conversations with some of the merchandise dolls he collected. He had even seen Stiles re-enact a Star Wars battle-scene with a toy light-saber once or twice and that always made him chuckle whenever he thought of it.

Now he imagined once more the lines of Stiles’ chest, the soft trail of hair on his abdomen, the nipples which always seemed erect or hard, the V-line on Stiles’ hip which seemingly invited everyone to ravage what lay hidden underneath, the moles & freckles that dotted his torso & abdomen alike, … Just imaging these things again, recalling details from memory & imagination, made Derek painfully hard as he strayed around his groin and caressed the inside of his thighs, the muscles of his chest, … Anything to postpone the inevitable and enjoy the moment a while longer. He kept looking at his phone, keeping the minutes in check as he flipped through the images he had of Stiles, self-made or send by Stiles himself. Four minutes had passed, he knew he had some extra minutes, as Stiles was usually late. He focussed on his pleasure again, building up the stimulation before he finally gently gripped his erect member and softly started stroking it. Pre-cum was already leaking, beading down on his abdomen softly as he imagined Stiles in the most obscene positions he could imagine. He moaned softly, hearing someone run up the stairway & approaching his door. Stiles had a key and usually let himself in, so he knew he could just keep going. Hearing the door softly close, a soft gasp as Stiles obviously saw the clothes, soft threading as he followed them, … Derek moaned Stiles’ name, could hear Stiles stop in the corridor as he obviously heard it. He was close now, could feel his pleasure reach the climax soon. He kept his eyes shut, opening them just slightly and saw Stiles curiously spy through the open door at Derek. He moaned Stiles’ name once more as he finally came, strings of cum flying unto his chest as he could hear Stiles’ breath stop and his heart beat erratic. He knew Stiles was enjoying this, the idea prolonging his orgasm somewhat as he was pleasured by the fact that Stiles liked seeing this.

Derek stopped panting and opened his eyes, looking Stiles directly in the eyes, as he acted surprised. Stiles was taken quite off-guard as he stumbled backwards and kicked the door open in his usual clumsiness. He began rambling as soon as he realized Derek had seen him peep in. “Derek! This isn’t what it looks like! I mean- “ Stiles panicked, turned around and took off. Derek could only chuckle as he heard the door slam shut behind Stiles, as the panicked teen ran down the stairway hurriedly. Derek only hoped he wouldn’t trip and kill himself on the stairs. He cleaned up a bit and awaited the text Stiles would send, as he always did whenever he did something stupid and needed to apologize, or thought he had to. And true to word, just ten minutes after he fled, Stiles send him a text.

S- “I’m so sorry! I didn’t wanna interrupt, didn’t thought about it! Please don’t think I’m a freak!”

D- “Calm down, u moron. I’m not gonna think u’re a freak. U know why?”

S- “Oh god, thank god! Okay, why?”

D- “Bcz I planned it, u dork. I’ve been trying to flirt with u 4 months & u’re always 2 dense 2 even notice.”

S- “Seriously? And this is your idea of coming out? Getting me to bust u busting a nut?! Bad dog!”

Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at Stiles’ reaction. The boy was interested alright if that was his only concern. Well, he knew Stiles had liked it. Heartbeats don’t tell lies, after all. Now he just had to make sure Stiles would take the final hint.

D- “Punish me then. If u can ;)”

S- “Is that your idea of asking me on a date?”

D- “Maybe. What do u think, dork?”  
S- “Fine. What time?”

Derek suppressed a fit of glee, as he was pleased to see that at least now Stiles could take a hint, after nearly nine months of being a dense idiot. He had nothing to do that evening, so he could just as well do it today.

D- “Tonight, 9 o’clock, pizza @ my place?”

S- “Sounds okay enough. But no more making me busting u busting nuts! “

D- “Deal! C u at 9 ;)”

Stiles didn’t respond after that message so Derek assumed everything had been said that Stiles needed to say. Strange thing, Stiles who didn’t want to say anything else. Usually he could keep up rambling about anything for hours and hours on end. Anytime they did a stakeout together, that had been the only reason Derek didn’t sleep through them. Nobody could sleep through a stakeout if Stiles was with them. He always seemed hyper with too much sugar for some reason and Derek strongly suspected it was a mix of some form of ADD and way too much unhealthy food. After all, at times Stiles drank more energy-drinks than an entire sports-team combined. If Derek would try that, he was pretty positive he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a month. He already slept too lightly for his own liking due to his inner wolf being always on high alert. Surely energy-drinks combined with his alert inner wolf would result in a death tired and extremely irritable Derek. Which would be bad news for everyone, because Derek developed a tendency to literally snap at anyone who bothered him when he was sleep-deprived.

Derek smiled happily throughout the afternoon as he prepared the flat for what he decided would be a casual pizza-date. Heck, he didn’t know if it would count as a date, but he was pretty sure it’d end up as one. Homemade pizza would be a bit of a stretch though, so he thought which pizza to choose for Stiles, but knowing Stiles, any pizza would be good pizza. If anything, the teen would probably eat two-day-old pizza if he could. He probably would. He probably has. No, definitely has. Derek now only had to decide what movie to watch. Knowing Stiles, drama or romance would be out of the question, but something sci-fi or fantasy would definitely score good points. Well, he could just as well simply rely on what he knew Stiles would always watch if it were on. Star Wars it was going to be. By the time eight o’clock had passed, Derek began the impatient waiting for Stiles to arrive and he was quite pleasantly surprised when he heard someone come up to the door at quarter to nine. Opening the door, a slightly blushing Stiles stood shuffling on his feet waiting to be let in. “Kinda early. Is not a problem, right?” Derek smiled, letting Stiles pass him as he merely assured the teen it wasn’t a problem at all.

“Pizza should arrive any moment now. It’s just pepperoni for both of us, if you don’t mind. I feel like eating something meaty tonight.” Derek said as he poured Stiles a drink, while Stiles flushed red at Derek’s suggestive remark. Accepting the glass with a nodded thanks, Stiles seated himself on the couch, as Derek remained standing at the counter, waiting for Stiles to speak. He could sense the boy was anxious, probably still ashamed by what he had seen that afternoon. “So… You like me then?” Straight to the point, Derek thought, as Stiles spoke. He walked out from behind the counter, seating himself near Stiles and placing his drink on the table before them. “Yes. For a long while by now.” Stiles blushed, shuffling his feet some more as he took another sip from his drink. “And you? Do you like me?” Stiles nearly choked on his drink as Derek asked the question. Wiping his nose & cleaning the mess with a paper napkin, Stiles began stuttering. “I- Kinda, but I’m not sure. Dunno. God, why do you need to ask? It’s awkward enough as is.” Derek looked Stiles in the eye as the teen dared look up at him, before quickly focussing on cleaning again. “Because we need to be clear of what we think of each other. In this life, a life you have willingly chosen, you can’t keep secrets from me or anyone else of the pack if it means it could get you killed. If I know you like me, I can anticipate on your responses in cases someone fixates on you or me and tries to hurt either of us. If I don’t, I can’t predict what could happen and it could end up with you, me or both dead. You understand?” Stiles meekly nodded as he got the point across, suddenly realizing that Derek was correct indeed and being in love with someone can easily be used against you if an enemy finds out.

They were interrupted as a knock sounded on the door, the pizza delivery just on time. Paying the delivery-boy and handing Stiles his own pizza, Derek settled himself closer to Stiles and asked if he wanted to watch a movie. “Sure. What movie you got picked?” Derek smiled as he simply started the movie, watching Stiles’ face light up in childish glee as he realized which movie it was. Silently eating their pizzas, Stiles gobbling it up more like a pig than like a human and consequently finishing it much sooner than Derek, Stiles came closer to Derek as the movie went on. By the time it was past halfway, Stiles was nestled against Derek’s side, as Derek had swung one arm casually about Stiles shoulder, a blanket drawn up around Stiles to keep out the colder autumn-chills. Derek never heated his flat, as he didn’t need to. His wolf-side kept him preternaturally warm at any time, which was extremely handy during chases in rain showers or through mud. Derek could enjoy more nights like these, watching a movie with Stiles curled up against him. It made him feel oddly at home, at peace. It had been several years since he ever really felt at home anywhere, so this was a very pleasant change of pace. When the movie had ended, Stiles was fast asleep and Derek couldn’t bring himself to wake him. Shuffling a bit and drawing another blanket over himself, he made sure Stiles could keep sleeping on as Derek pulled him in a tight embrace. The moment he put his arms around Stiles, the teen drew closer to him, nuzzling his head against Derek’s strong arms before lying still again. Inhaling Stiles scent, enjoying the drowsiness that overtook him, aided by the calming effect of Stiles’ scent, Derek soon found himself drifting off together with Stiles…


	2. Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Stiles struggles to continue living his life in his current state.

By the time Stiles woke up, Derek was long gone & the TV only displayed static. Glancing at the hour, it became obvious that Derek left to prevent an awkward conversation with Stiles’ dad, who should be arriving back home any moment now. He was still pondering if the past day actually happened, shuddering at the memory of seeing Derek displayed like that or huddled next to him during the movie. Had anyone said that he & Sourwolf would be cuddling by the end of the past day, he would have called them delusional & insane. Even though the situation was kinda weird, it also left Stiles with a feeling of contentment, something long overdue considering the hectic stress of the past months. Between juggling school, research & supernatural problems, there had hardly been any time for Stiles to relax & focus his mind back on the essential. Last night was necessary, because otherwise his hyperactive mind would’ve run amok over the course of the next few weeks. 

Still, coming to terms with the fact that he genuinely likes Derek, comfortable to be so close with him, it takes some getting used to & Stiles briefly wonders when there could ever be a good time in his life to figure out his feelings. His dad probably wouldn’t mind, would say he’d treat any of Stiles’ partners the same, whether they be man or woman, but still. Stiles is drawn from his internal monologue by the sound of a car pulling up to the house, the characteristic sound of the engine announcing his father’s home. Almost three o’clock, way past usual hours so something must’ve happened. Springing to his feet, groggily stretching into the kitchen & putting the coffee machine on, Stiles is dreamily counting the droplets of coffee when his father enters – thirty, thirty one, thirty two… His dad cocks a brow, sighs & put his keys in the usual spot. Stiles knows his father wants him to keep up regular hours, because Stiles without enough sleep is a not-so-silent nightmare for everyone near him. Pouring a cup for his dad, careful not to be tempted to take sip – because a caffeinated Stiles is even worse than a sleepdeprived Stiles, he hands it over as his father starts talking.

“You know, I’ve got eyes everywhere, kiddo. Anything you wanna say?” John says as he drinks his coffee, a single eye kept gazing at Stiles the entire time. Stiles swallows, trying not to show surprise or nerves. He wasn’t ready to tell his dad anything, especially not if he was referring to Derek. “No, nothing. Why?” Stiles blinked a few times, expecting his dad to press him again, confess whatever he knows, but he just nods & wishes Stiles a good night. Leaving the kitchen & going to his room, Stiles is just glad his dad didn’t pressure him into telling anything. His life was still such a mess at the moment, the thought of his father knowing about any of it would just add too much stress on top of it all. Stretching a few times to get the stiffness out of his body, Stiles is glad when he finally hits his bed, sinking into the deep covers. His window is still unlocked, as usual & it wouldn’t surprise him if Derek’d jump through somewhere in the next twelve hours to see how Stiles’d be doing. Who could’ve thought that Sourwolf liked him so much?

Falling asleep was easy, but staying asleep was as difficult as ever. The moment he closed his eyes, Stiles was immediately back in the room with the Nemeton where an all too familiar figure was sitting on the stump, a board game set before it. Stiles sighed, getting tired of this nightly ritual with the remnants of the Nogitsune’s presence in his subconscious. Seating himself before it & making the first move, like usual, Stiles waited on the shade to move. “So, Derek has made a move, after almost three years. It certainly took him long enough.” The shade spoke in soft voice as it pushed a pawn around during its move. Stiles breathed, knowing that this was more his own subconscious speaking than whatever was left of the Nogitsune itself. “Yeah. But I never really thought he ever was interested.” Stiles said as he made his own move. The shade smiled, a leering grin slightly visible through the half-removed bandages on the face, sharp teeth glinting. “You always suspected, Stiles, no use denying that to me. You were just too much of a coward to act on those suspicions.” Another pawn was moved, standing close to one of Stiles’ pawns now. Stiles considered the situation for a few moment, finally moving another pawn. “Decent people don’t flirt with those of whom they don’t know if they like them. It’s just not right, but how could you even begin to understand that?” The shade hums in response, as it places its pawn near Stiles’. “You wound me, Stiles. I might be old, but I spend a lot of time among you humans. I learned some decent etiquette, when my plans had been less about chaos & more about just being accepted by someone. At least, I think. It’s strange not being able to access my memories now that I’m no longer really here.” Stiles sighs, continuing the game for another hour orzo, before winning.

The room dissipates, making place for a dark woods. Stiles sighs as he feels the onset of dread. He’s had this nightmare too often to be surprised anymore, yet it always manages to make him cry out in distress. It hurries along, his memory of the dream already fading as he only sees flashes of scenery, human figures fighting, knives flashing in moonlight, blood slowly draining into the dirt below, all the while accompanied by howling & crying. When he finally startles awake from the nightmare, his eyes are tearing heavily, drops flowing down his cheeks as he uncramps his hand, digging his nails out of his thigh, blood welling from the self-inflicted wound. Before he has time to disinfect the wounds, they’ve already started to close. Another parting gift of the Nogitsune, Stiles absently ponders as he wipes the blood of his leg. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in months & he’s starting to feel it thoroughly. Ever since the entire Nogitsune-incident, his attention span has decreased immensely. By now, he counts himself lucky if his thoughts can stay on the same subject for longer than five minutes before they wander off. And he can’t figure out, for the life of it, how he manages to keep doing his researches for the pack.

He figures that Derek knows, considering how he’s been spying on Stiles for months. Derek obviously either thinks Stiles doesn’t knows, or he doesn’t care if Stiles does know. Derek had never intruded his room when Stiles woke from the nightmares, so either Derek believes Stiles can deal with them on his own or he doesn’t know at all. And if he doesn’t know, does he need to know? Stiles silently curses as he tries to calm his mind, before another panic-attack kicks in & keeps him from falling asleep again. It’s too early or late for any of this & Stiles just wishes he could sleep a whole night for once. Maybe Deaton knows something to help him, to keep the dreams away. Making a mental note to ask Deaton tomorrow, Stiles lies back down & tries to zone out, hoping he can fall asleep & stay asleep. Five minutes later, his eyes close & his breathing calms out, after which Derek finally enters the room with a hurt look on his face. He knew Stiles had been having nightmares well before the Nogitsune-incident, but only since have they been this bad. But then again, who wouldn’t get nightmares after having been possessed by a thousand-year-old trickster-demon for several weeks? Slowly placing his hand on Stiles’ forehead, Derek begins extracting some of Stiles’ pain, hoping to ease his troubled sleep & give the boy a decent dreamless night.

Next morning, Stiles only slowly became awake, feeling like he had too much to drink last night, before he remembered the nightmare. Shuddering at the half-memory, he quickly wipes his face & gets up, making his way to the bathroom. He actually feels half-decent, more rested than he had hoped but in the mirror, he still looks like someone on the brink of exhaustion. And he is, if he’s being honest. His eyes are baggy, face is pale, hair greasy, eyes bleary, … In general it looks like he’s slowly becoming a vampire. Thank god they hadn’t have to deal with those yet, if they ever. Knowing his luck, they probably will. Quickly cleaning himself up a bit, Stiles is thinking about the things he has to do today. Researching about elemental wraiths, calling Scotty to discuss the next pack-meeting, arranging a new date with Derek, visiting his dad in the office, cooking some meals for the weekend, … Thankfully the list’s limited today, as he’s already getting trouble with staying focussed. The research could wait till the evening, as did the meals. Discussing the meeting with Scotty could easily take hours, so date with Derek it is. Quickly dialling the number & hoping that the big Sourwolf gets his phone on time for once, Stiles is waiting a few moments, only to be disappointed by the answering machine. “God, Derek, why bother having a cell phone if you never pick up? It’s to see when we’re gonna have our next date. My place or yours? Call me later. Bye.”

Seems calling Scotty’s next on the list, Stiles thinks as he picks up the notes he made during the last meeting. Notes were the only reason he managed to keep in touch with anyone these days. If it hadn’t been for noting literally everything down, Stiles is sure he would have missed at least three weeks of school & five pack-meetings. Luckily everybody’s used to him constantly writing down stuff, or they’d suspect anything. He really doesn’t want anyone to know he’s been having such trouble with remembering stuff. It’s embarrassing enough as it is, last thing he needs is expected sympathy or mocking laughter. Derek probably knows, since he’s the only one who’s been having contact with Stiles outside of school & pack-meetings besides Scotty. And Scotty’s too busy being lovey-dovey with Alison to even notice him most of the times. It’s a wonder he remembered to bother Stiles about pack-meetings at all. But then again, Scotty’s an Alpha now & he really needs Stiles’ advice & research to keep up to date with just about everything, to be able to make the best decisions.

Discussing the pack-meetings is just bearable, but Stiles doesn’t complain. After all, it’s becoming one of the few regular times that he actually talks with Scotty. They talk for a few hours, laugh a few times & then Scotty goes back home. And Stiles doesn’t mind, because by now he’s as exhausted as he was yesterday night. Keeping up with anyone is more difficult now & school days especially are horrendous due this. It’s actually making Stiles fear that perhaps he’s better off postponing his next year & have a Sabbath-year, to finally fix his life & get some much needed closure on several issues. But his father wouldn’t agree, would say that education is important. And Stiles would remind him how he’s got so much credit build up that he could effectively quit school right now & still graduate. Stiles rubs his head, as he lies down for a bit, needing to rest. Just as he’s to close his eyes, a familiar thud sounds & Derek walks into view, immediately seating himself on Stiles’ bed. “Feeling tired?” Derek sounds worried, as he lays a hand on Stiles’ forehead, slowly draining the building headache. “Yeah. Just had pack-meeting discussion with Scotty. But I guess you knew that already.” Derek nods as he takes Stiles’ hand in his free hand. “Are you okay, Stiles? I know none of this is easy, but if something’s wrong-“ Stiles cuts him off, hoping he can ease Derek’s worries. “I’m fine, Derek. I just didn’t sleep much, is all.” Derek’s face instantly turns sad, meaning he knows something & Stiles is quick to figure out that perhaps Sourwolf might keep closer an eye than he suspected. “But I can see that you already knew.” Stiles’ surprised by the sadness in his own voice, as he keeps an eye on Derek.  
Derek moves closer, pressing his forehead against Stiles’ as he shifts his soothing hand to the back of Stiles’ neck. “I know. You’re having nightmares & they’ve gotten worse since the Nogitsune left. Stiles, I’m worried. You’re going to break down soon if you don’t take care more of yourself. You’re important to the pack, to me. I don’t know what I’d do if you collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Or worse.” Stiles feels his eyes water as he listens to Derek, fear & anxiety mixed through that deep voice he so loves. He can’t handle seeing or hearing Derek like this, not if it’s because of him. But he can’t focus on his tears, can’t keep them in anymore. He’s just too tired, too exhausted from this life. And he begins to weep, uncontrollably sobbing in Derek’s embrace as a soothing hand keeps draining the physical pain in his body. When darkness, with its soothing embrace of sleep, finally takes him, he can just about make the effort to say, “I love you” before he faints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped I was able to convey just how scrambled Stiles' thoughts are, how mentally & physically exhausted he is from living his life as he has, being constantly needed & involved with supernatural occurrences.


	3. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' friends & family are becoming increasingly worried about his health.

He woke slowly, head still dazed & throat parched. Shifting in the bed, he felt another body pressed against his own. Turning to look at it, he watched how Derek clung to him, the front of his body flush against Stiles’ back. He remembered passing out, fainting, in Derek’s arms. Grateful that Derek had at least the decency to put him in bed & keep him company, to watch over Stiles, Stiles softly turned about. Facing the wolf, he traced Derek’s strong jawline, letting his eyes linger over the details of that usually brooding face. It was strange to see him so relaxed, so at ease with the world about him. Somehow, Stiles had always imagined Derek with an eternal scowl, even at sleep. He had never been more glad to be wrong, for it’d have been a shame to see this serene & beautiful sight fouled by a scowl of fear & distrust. He supposed he should be grateful that Derek was this understanding, but it also pained him somewhat, knowing that Derek obviously figured many things out long ago. He had simply feigned ignorance to grant Stiles a sense of privacy & this angered Stiles somehow. He felt as if he’d been treated like a petulant child, allowed to make belief that he had the right of secrets whilst he hadn’t even got the smallest sliver of true privacy to begin with. Yet, he couldn’t be angry, not really. Here & now, he felt safe, for the first time in many months, with Derek no less.

He loves the wolf, he truly does but he has also seen what love does to people when they’re wrenched apart. He had seen it with his parents, when his mother finally died after a long battle with her own body, & with Scott when Allison had been killed by the Oni, an event that still tints his mind with dark fear & guilt, having had to watch it unfold before him when he had been trapped in his own mind. He could never forget what he did as the Nogitsune, even though he knows that it wasn’t him, not really. He had become a puppet & the puppeteer, not him, had done all those horrible things. But still, he couldn’t get rid of the guilt, never. “Stop feeling guilty, Stiles. It stinks.” Derek muttered softly as he crunched his nose, waking up to the bitter scent of Stiles’ self-loathing. “Sorry…” Stiles whimpers as he turns into himself, feeling even guiltier now that his stupid scent awoke Derek. His traitorous body betrayed him & had disturbed the serene sight of a snoring & slightly drooly Derek in his bed. “I said stop it.” Derek mutters again as he flings his pillow on top of Stiles’ head, disrupting the teen’s thoughts. “I can’t help it, Der. I just can’t forget it, you know…” Derek turns to him again, eyes full of understanding as he lifts a hand to caress Stiles’ cheek. “I know. I was the same after the fire, Stiles, but it won’t help you to keep milling on about it. It’s happened & we can’t change it. Best we can do is look & work towards the future, together. If you want.”

Stiles’ chest fills with the familiar sensation of fluttering, the hope of love & understanding. Hearing Derek say those words affects him way more than he had dared anticipate or even hope. “Der…” He lifts his hand to meet Derek’s on his cheek, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as Derek merely smiles to him, as if to comfort him. Quickly folding himself into Derek’s embrace, pulling their bodies flush against each other, Stiles inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth & comfort of Derek’s body. He’s vaguely aware of his phone buzzing with a text, but stoutly ignores it in favor of melting into Derek. They’ve done this before, but it feels different now, much better & more intimate. Derek too feels it & his inner-wolf is purring contently at the feeling of Stiles in their embrace, enveloped by their mingled scents. It smells of life, earth & musky yet sweet. In short, it feels like home. He’s tempted to scent the teen, having him so close now but holds off. There’s so much that they still have to figure out, together & on their own. And Derek’s still afraid, even after so many years, that his happiness will be stripped away from him again once he gains it & he can’t bear to see Stiles suffer because of that. He wants to keep the teen close yet safely far away & it’s silently tears him apart. But he cherishes the moment, enjoying Stiles’ scent & the purring of his wolf. He can worry about it all later, when he’s certain Stiles is fine for the day. One day at a day, he reminds himself, tightening his embrace of the teen.

By the time any of the couple are up, Stiles’ father is lounging in the living room, drinking a cup of coffee as he catches up with the news, on TV & newspaper. Ever since Derek started financially supporting the Stilinskis as a favour for Stiles saving his wolf ass so many times, John, the sheriff, has been looking better than in many years since his wife’s death. “Morning, Derek. Somehow I had a suspicion you’d be around today. Is Stiles still asleep?” Derek smiles back to the man, long past the awkward-phase of their regular morning-greetings. True, Stiles still thinks his father knows nothing about his regular bedroom-meetings with Derek & both Derek and the sheriff are content with letting Stiles think that. They know he wants to feel trusted & allowed his secrets. “Morning, sheriff. Yes, Stiles had a minor breakdown yesterday.” John sighs before sipping his coffee & responding, worry etched on his face. “I thought so. Long time coming, don’t think Stiles has had a good night’s sleep in at least a month. I just wish he’d begin seeing the counsellor again. Ever since Eichen, he’s been so distrusting of any psychiatrists but he’s going to need one if he ever wants to feel at ease with himself again. Can’t you talk him into it? He trusts you more on that than he does me, even though I’m his father.”

“He trusts you, sheriff, you know that. It’s just that he doesn’t even trust himself enough anymore. After all that happened, he’s reluctant to speak about his feelings anymore. You could say that he isn’t certain anymore about his ability to either trust his own judgement or that of others.” Derek says softly, aware that Stiles has gotten out of bed & is walking about his room. “He’s awake, so I’ll be going. I’ll talk to him later, I promise.” Derek quickly leaves through the backdoor as Stiles enters his bathroom & starts his usual morning routine. By the time he enters the kitchen, his father has laid out the cases of the past week, placing any possibly supernatural-related ones on a pile before sliding them to Stiles. “It’s been a quiet week, only one case that might be odd.” Stiles softly nods as he takes his own cup of coffee & sips it as he reads through the file. At the surface, it looks like a robbery gone wrong but a certain details catches his eye & convinces him that this is a case for Deaton to confirm before he’ll inform Scott & the pack. “Thanks, dad. I’ll copy what I need & you can take these back.” He pulls out a few files from the papers he took downstairs, handing them back over to his father before leaving for Deaton’s.

“Well, the markings on the chest check out & this mention of the coroner here, of aconite poisoning? Are you sure it isn’t anything related to wolves?” Stiles asks again after Deaton assures him once again that it isn’t anything supernatural. “It isn’t, Stiles. I know you think that it might be, but it isn’t. And don’t think you’re wrong either. It was a good guess, believe me but if it weren’t for the fact I checked this corpse out yesterday, I wouldn’t have proven you wrong on this one.” Stiles sighs as he sinks into the chair, his head in his hands as he mutters. “I know. It’s just…” Deaton watches the teen before him, looking tired & worn-out. “Stiles, I’d like you to do something for me.” Stiles looks up, as Deaton walks over & takes him by the shoulders. “Go see a psychiatrist.” Before Stiles has time to object, Deaton is already silencing him & continuing to talk. “You’re becoming unhinged, Stiles. Don’t think I haven’t noticed it. Derek knows it, your father knows it & Scott knows it. We’ve just been letting you alone, thinking you’d pick up yourself or seek help. But since you aren’t, I’m now commanding you to do so. Get help, get better!” Stiles looks away, ashamed at his own naiveté, thinking he could’ve hidden it at all. He’s close to sobbing, feeling naked somehow & wanting to be left alone. He doesn’t want psychiatrists, doesn’t trust them anymore. He remembers Eichen all too well…

“I don’t want to, but if you think it’s best…” Stiles answers as Deaton lets go of his shoulders. “If I hadn’t convinced you, Stiles, Derek would undoubtedly try soon enough. We’re just worried, Stiles. We all want help you get better, but there’s only so much that we can do as untrained people for things like PTSD.” Stiles scoffs, but he knows Deaton’s right. He definitely has PTSD – if the nightmares weren’t enough evidence, the anxiety & random panic-attacks would be. He shudders as he exhales a soft sigh, trying his best to keep his legs from shaking. He shouldn’t be this nervous about Deaton’s coercion, but he can’t help it. Anytime the subject comes up, it triggers those very unpleasant memories, which he’d rather forget.


	4. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' first session with a psychiatrist begins & they begin prying open old wounds together.

“And what would you say would be your greatest fear at the moment, Stiles?” Stiles listens to the soothing voice of the doctor, repeating the question to himself & trying to answer it in a clear way. “To lose control again, you know. When I lost control over myself, when that ‘second personality’ took over, I was the most afraid in my whole life. I couldn’t stand it, being locked in my own body & seeing it do all these horrible things to people I knew, people I cared for.” The psychiatrist nods unseen, Stiles’ back turned to her as she pens down the answer & writes a few notes drawn to certain keywords. “And this second personality, do you think it’s still around or influencing you?” She perks up her head, watching the spastic teen in her lounger grow still at the question, & writes down another note. “Yes. The memories haunt me, keep me having nightmares about them. Do you know how horrible it is to be paralyzed, unable to move due to fear? That’s what I go through every night in my dreams, being paralyzed as a shadow is attacking people I know & hurting them. It’s like seeing your pet being run over by a sadist, over & over again, repeating whenever you think it’s finally over…” The tension in his voice rises, quips softly audible between syllables. He’s close to tears as he tries to convey his fears into crude words & feeble descriptions. The doctor writes down his words, faithfully accurate to the dot on the i.

“That’ll do for a first session, Stiles. I want you to think about something else now, something pleasant. What would you say is your favourite movie?” She says as she underlines the notes with finality, trying to calm the teen down with this positivity-related mental technique. Before a second has passed, he speaks up, almost blurts out the answer. “Star Wars. Return of the Jedi, of course, not that trite shit of the new trilogy – though the new one might come close to second.” His rattling answer & usual energy affirm her in the success of the technique once again. “Good. And your favourite ice-cream flavour?” She goes on as she casually writes down the answer, glad to note a lighted tension in the tightened shoulders. “Strawberry, although…” He almost continues, but quickly stops. Interestedly she probes. “What is it, Stiles? Bad memory or a good one?” Stiles takes time answering, but when he does, he sounds both more tense & relaxed at the same time. She notes that the boy is a worse case than she had feared. “Strawberry was my mom’s favourite & mine too ever since she died. It reminded me of her, you know, gave me a grounded sensation to remember our good times together by. But lately, I’ve begun to…” She thinks what he’s on to. “Someone new has entered your life, perhaps? And their favourite ice-cream-flavour might now also be yours because you like them?” Stiles snorts at her response, more in silent confirmation than mockery, she notes.

“Kinda, yeah. Good call, doc. Yeah, I met someone new. Well, not new as in new – I mean, we’ve known each other for almost three years now but lately I’ve come to know them… better. It’s like I see them clearly for the first time, I guess.” His voice is low, soft, almost dripping in fondness at the thought of whoever this person is. “Would you say you’re in love with this person, Stiles? And if so, are you perhaps a bit conflicted about this memory concerning the ice-cream, afraid you’ll lose the memories of your mother if you accept the new favourite flavour above the old one?” Stiles turns his head to the window, away from her position. He is silent for a while & she’s close to speaking before he answers back. “I guess. I know that my memories of my mom won’t go away, but it feels like I’d be abandoning my love or grief for her if I accept that change. It’d feel like it would no longer faze me that she died, as if I’m insulting her in a way.” She writes down the answer before she wraps up & speaks back to the teen. “You’re right & wrong, Stiles. You’ve been grieving for almost ten years now & no one will think her death would no longer mean anything. Ten years is a long time & I think you’d agree if I’d say that it is more than just an extensive grieving-period but is holding you back in many ways. You have to accept her death in the fullest in order to prevent it from preventing you from living again. We cannot change the past, only accept it. Of course, it isn’t as easy as that but perhaps you should accept this change of ice-cream as a stepping-stone towards complete acceptance of your mother’s death. See it as a first step on a long road of recovery, towards a future where you live without nightmares again. Can you do that, Stiles? Not for me, but for your mother & the person you love?” She finishes & looks at the teen, who is slowly rising from the lounger. Standing up & placing down her fee, he avoids her eyes as he asks when the next appointment is. She decides a next date & sees him off, before sitting back down & calling the parental number in his file. “Mister Stilinski? Hello, it’s doctor Dalia from Chronos Psy. I’d like to invite you for a preliminary discussion of Stiles’ first session. There are a few things I’d like to go over with.”

By the time Stiles lets himself drop in his bed back home, the Sheriff’s shift is almost over & Derek’s been notified by the sheriff to check up on Stiles. Derek lets himself in through the window, seeing Stiles huddled together in his bed, face turned towards the wall. Listening to the steady rhythm of stiles’ heart, Derek knew beforehand the teen was asleep. He looks over the room, wistfully noting how barren the walls look nowadays, a stark contrast to the past when they’d been plastered & covered on every square inch by news reports & printed scraps of information. Stiles had abandoned all his research ever since the Nogitsune-events & the barren walls begin depressing Derek more & more with every passing day. He knows that Stiles will never be the same as before, but at the least he yearns & hopes that his scholarly curiosity towards answering the weird & curious will return one day. Until then, he’ll put up with these hatefully empty walls & be the support that Stiles deserves. Checking up on Stiles before slipping downstairs, Derek puts up some coffee & waist for the sheriff to arrive home. He & John have become closer over the past months. Turns out they have very similar personalities once Derek drops the façade he’s been putting up for years. When John & he had finally managed to convince Stiles on checking a psychiatrist with no small help from Deaton, they’d both let out a more than large sigh of relief. Now they wait & hope that’ll help Stiles in some ways. Maybe they can get some part of the old Stiles back once some of the wounds start to heal properly. They really had been leaving this alone for far too long.

Hearing the sheriff’s car approach from the turn of the street several hundred yards away, Derek pours some coffee ready in the usual cup as he waits for him to arrive home & walk through the backdoor. “Evening, sheriff.” Derek says with formal tone as John enters. “Lord, Derek, drop the sheriff-thing at my home. Please just call me John. Or would you prefer dad soon?” The Sheriff quips with a wink as he puts away his vest & shoes before picking up the mug & sipping the coffee. “Ah, 100% pure Arabica, just my cup of tea.” Derek snorts, never ceasing to be amazed by the typical Stilinski-talent of relevant snubs, quips & word play. They spent a few minutes in silence before the sheriff speaks up. “I’ve been called by Stiles’ psychiatrist on my office today, after his session. Apparently he has more issues than even she expected & some really are much deeper than feared. She said she wants a discussion with me, to get some answers from me to help answer some questions Stiles is refusing to answer but which could help him tremendously. I’m going there tomorrow. Perhaps you want to join me?” Derek cocks a brow at the sheriff before he answers, somewhat confused.

“Are you sure you want me there? I mean, how could I possibly help? Also, isn’t that really personal? Would you really be okay with me just hearing all that?” Derek watches the man across him intently as he awaits the response. Finally, the sheriff puts down his mug & looks Derek straight in the eye before he speaks. “Look, Derek, let’s not beat about the bush. We both know that you’re Stiles’ only real anchor to the world currently. He trusts you blindly & would follow you to the ends of the Earth, back & further, again & again. Let’s call the cat by what it is, shall we?” Derek leans back as he replies. “And what should we call the cat then? Besides, who says it isn’t a dog?” The sheriff smirks as he leans back as well, picking his mug up again & sipping once more. “Stiles is so deeply in love with you that it makes monogamous seem a petty definition, Derek. Stiles has never been one to blindly trust people, with exception of Scott & Lydia, & even they had to prove their worth & loyalty to him before he even considered blind trust in them. You tell me that your relation in the beginning was nothing but animosity & constant quipping from Stiles’ side, but now that you know him better, wouldn’t you agree that that would be recognizable as Stiles liking you?” John finishes as he places his empty mug back on the table. “Scott told me that Stiles multiple times told him that he didn’t trust you, yet he jumped in after you when the kanima toppled you in the pool, to keep you aloft above the water for two whole hours. Does that sound like animosity to you? You don’t save people you don’t trust or dislike, especially not if you’re Stiles. It may not seem like I, but if he had hated you even back then, he would have left you to your devices.” Derek swallows at this harsh truth as the sheriff gets up to the kitchen. “Now, do you want lasagne for dinner or would you prefer take-out as Stiles does, greasy & overcooked?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The human psyche is not simple & seemingly random or unrelated things can often end up having deep & meaningful connections. That is always a challenge to write decently about. I hope I did a good job.
> 
> The general mood I wanted to set here is just how deep Stiles' mental wounds go & how solid a foundation Derek turns out to be in the current times, how he keeps Stiles grounded & from collapsing utterly.


	5. Ventilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mental turmoil finally breaks Stiles as he unconsciously whips up a raging storm of raw magic, tearing apart the entire neighbourhood. How will Derek save him?

Screams, terrible noises, horrible winds… Derek struggles to figure out what’s happening as he makes his way to the centre of this sudden storm. As he approaches the site, he’s horrified to see Stiles’ neighbourhood bend beneath an obviously magical maelstrom. Wood splinters, glass shatters, concrete cracks. The noise & din of the whole event is deafening & flashes of lightning within the dark cloud illuminate ghostly skeletons of houses destroyed & being destroyed. Panic grips his heart as his thoughts wander to Stiles & his father. Somewhere nearby, he spots Scott & the rest of the pack hiding behind a large chunk of concrete. Making his way to them, he’s relieved to see the sheriff with them. “Where’s Stiles?” he yells as he ducks behind the concrete slab with them. “Take a guess, idiot.” He flinches, staring at the storm behind him now. “You don’t mean?” Scott eyes him as if he can’t believe how dense Derek can actually be. “What do you think? His dad got out because it started small. He’s right at the centre & we’re not sure how we can get through.” The sheriff looks terrified, constantly gazing at the unseen centre of the hurricane. “Where’s Deaton?” Derek yells at Scott who quickly ducks out of the way of a large wooden beam that buries itself in the street behind him. “He’s on his way, but I’m not sure he can do much.” Derek’s worry grows with each passing second before he suddenly feels the strange pull coming from the storm. Turning around without conscious action, he feels draw to it, to Stiles. Somehow, he knows, he can reach him. He looks back at the pack, all eyeing the storm in absolute fear & mixed worry. He silently curses, not trying to think about their anger towards him afterwards before he rushes the vortex head-on.

Whatever he had been expecting beyond the immediate wall of wind & raw force, this wasn’t it. Beyond a howling wall of wind, at least seventy yards thick, lies a wasteland. Ruins of houses, stripped bare of all loose things & furnishings, stand erect proudly in an overgrown landscape. Grasses grown high as humans & trees grown wild as if from a jungle, the whole feels like a post-apocalypse a hundred years after it happened. Yet, amongst the overgrown destruction, the Stilinski home stands untouched. Completely intact safe for a hole in the roof, it is free of overgrowth & nature, looking parched & beaten by decades of harsh sunlight. Slowly making his way towards the house, Derek can feel his wolf whine & whimper with every step. The whole scene gives the wolf a sensation of fear yet he also feels a sense of duty. He has to get to Stiles, but the raw energy of the place puts his every instinct on edge. When he finally crosses the threshold of the home, he can feel the energy pulse, fuelled by a raging sadness within. He knows Stiles will be in his room before he thinks about it & his body takes over, stepping up the stairs before Derek knows it. He is being called, this much is clear, but he isn’t sure if it is Stiles or something else. The whole feels so surreal, so otherworldly, & he knows that this is by no fact normal, not even in a supernatural world. He walks down the corridor & sees Stiles seated on his knees, bend over a photo-album in his lap, tears trickling down. Energy leaps away from the teen, rushing past Derek & electrifying the air around them.

“When I was five, mom took me to the preserve once.” Stiles’ voice is low & soft, as if he’s afraid the air will break when it is disturbed. “She showed me all the plants she knew, citing them by name & purpose. Every single one. Yet she never showed me wolfsbane. Wonder why.” He chuckles dryly as he stops speaking, fingers caressing a faded picture under them. “I always wondered why she took me there so often from that day on, why she made me remember those plants. After she died, I forgot all about it. Funny how grief can do that to memories. Now I recognize that she was training me.” He lets out a deep sigh as he closes the album & places it away from him. “It hurts, Derek, knowing that somehow all this was connected from the very beginning & that so many things could have been prevented. So much death & pain & tears… Most of all that could have been prevented…” Derek cautiously inches closer, recognizing Stiles’ silent approach to a breakdown. He has to thread lightly now, has to make the teen focus. “I know you’re afraid I’m going to snap.” Stiles says, as if reading his mind. “I’m not sure if I will, but please don’t treat me like I’m a bomb, Der. You’re never careful around anyone, safe with me. I’m not as fragile as you think.” Stiles turns to face Derek & Derek’s breath stills. Normally amber eyes, dotted with golden flakes, have gone. Only white remains, glowing softly as tears trickle down from them. He forces himself to move, wrapping his arms about Stiles as they slowly sink to the floor. “How bad is it out there, Der?” Stiles whispers as he hugs Derek tightly. “Not gonna lie, looks like an overgrown warzone.” Stiles chuckles. “Well, at least I know what my raw magic does now. I guess we should be lucky it’s not void-magic.” He snorts before he starts sobbing into Derek’s shoulder.

They remain seated for almost an hour & Stiles has grown silent. Derek senses Deaton near before he actually hears or smells the emissary. Stiles too seemingly knows as he suddenly calls out. “Deaton, get your retired druid-ass over here!” Slowly walking into the corridor from the stairs, Deaton comes into view, face blank before it cracks the familiar smile. “Well, at least you have gotten that part of your magic under control.” Deaton says as he enters the room & hunches besides the pair. “Can you switch it off? It hurts.” Stiles softly pleads as Deaton takes out the bag he was carrying. “Yes, I can but it’s gonna hurt a bit more before it stops. You’ll have to listen very carefully, okay?” Stiles nods as he detaches himself from Derek, facing Deaton with tear streaked cheeks. “Now, Stiles, I want you to imagine the storm. Derek has seen it, so if you want, you can use his memory of it to visualize it as is.” Stiles nods before speaking. “How do I access Derek’s memories?” Deaton sighs as he takes out a rope & binds Stiles’ hands to those of Derek. “Just imagine yourself looking through Derek’s eyes. By this point, considering what you have already done subconsciously, that should be easy.” Stiles nods & tries focussing on Derek. After a few minutes, he silently gasps before speaking up again. “I did that?” Derek nods, his hand gripping tighter on Stiles’ hand. “Don’t dwell on it, Stiles. You can easily undo it if you follow my lead, okay? Now, imagine your storm growing. Visualize it enveloping everything hit by its effect with destroying anything else. Imagine it to be a very dense & windy fog.”

“Then, when you have visualized it as such, imagine it retreating back to here, slowly. Imagine the neighbourhood emerging from the mist, untouched & undamaged. Don’t dwell on the details too much, the magic will take care of it. Just remember the neighbourhood as it was. Then, before the fog reaches here again, I want you to halt it.” Stiles concentrates for a couple of minutes, face strained with a scowl as he furrows his brows together. “Okay. Then what?” Deaton wraps a tagged rope around Stiles’ wrists before speaking. “Then, imagine the fog slowly lifting. Let the energy flow back to you. Think of it as a stream of dense fog slowly coalescing into a stream towards you, flowing into your heart. Visualize & imagine a force building up inside of you. Contain it & tame it, make it a ball of light inside of you. Make it yours again.” Stiles nods again & Derek can feel the energy in the room become almost tangible, as if a strong draft is pushing against him. After barely a minute, a wisp of fog starts trickling into the room from all sides, through the open window & door, reaching into Stiles. Deaton locks eyes with Derek, looking strained & prepared to take action if necessary, & Derek is slightly afraid of what could go wrong. What would happen if Stiles loses control now? What effects would it have? Deaton shakes his head to Derek slowly, as if saying that he should think of something else. Derek tries, feebly thinking about random things before his mind latches onto a memory of him waking next to Stiles, of the feeling of home, love & family in his arms, in Stiles. Derek closes his eyes & tries to remember every detail of the memory, focussing on the multitude of moles on Stiles’ body, of how the usually spastic teen looks so relaxed when asleep in his arms, of how he fits so perfectly in his life. And then, suddenly, he remembers the memory from Stiles’ POV, the feeling of strong arms about his waist, of even breathing against his neck, stubble against his shoulders, a content feeling of unadulterated love in his chest, of happiness. He opens his eyes suddenly as he realizes he was reliving the moment through Stiles’ eyes, staring directly in those amber eyes he so dearly loves.

“Well done, Stiles. Very well done, especially for someone yet untrained in magic.” Deaton compliments as he unwraps the ropes about Stiles & Derek. Stiles looks breathless, staring at Derek still without change. Something has changed, he realizes, a border has been crossed & Derek’s slightly anxious about whether that’s good or bad. “It’s good.” Stiles says, leaving Derek once again speechless in bafflement. “It’s a good thing, Der.” Stiles continues as Deaton silently turns about & puts away various things he had taken out, most of which Derek hadn’t seen been taken out at all. All he can do is simply smile at Stiles & when Stiles smiles back in response, it is such a simple beauty & breath-taking sight that Derek thinks he can now happily die in peace, whatever the cause of death would be. “Don’t quit on me yet, Sourwolf.” Stiles chuckles as he reads Derek’s mind again. “Stop doing that. Or at least teach me how to do that as well.” Derek quips back before he releases Stiles’ hands & give him a standard type-3 smirk. “Wouldn’t you like that, huh? Teach you mind-reading you want me, not-so-young Padawan?” Stiles jokes as Derek merely snorts & stands up. Deaton turns back towards them, a soft smile on his lips as he begins speaking to Stiles. “Now, Stiles, I suggest we start training your magic. I had hoped to wait until you have made some progress in your mental recovery, but it seems that your magic is more potent that I had anticipated. I guess we should be lucky that this time, its effects could so easily be reversed. Next time might not be so lucky.” Stiles’ smile falters a little before quirking back up at the mention of magic training. “Cool – and sorry. I don’t know what happened. One moment I was crying, the next I felt this pain & this happened.” Deaton places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder as he calms the teen. “No worries, Stiles. Turbulent emotions or unstable moods can always provoke an uncontrolled magical ventilation. Imagine it as a supernatural panic-attack. I’ll teach you to recognize its usual signs, so don’t worry too much about it. Now, I suggest that we’ll begin training this Saturday. Come see me at noon & make sure that you’re relaxed & sober. Until than, I think it best that you spend time with friends & family, do things that make you happy. Okay?” Stiles nods softly, after which Deaton gives Derek a nod & walks away.

By the time Deaton reaches the rest of the pack, police have cordoned off the area & people start trickling back to their houses. Scott & the sheriff are immediately by him as he begins addressing them. “No permanent damage done, luckily, but I am starting training with him this Saturday. Scott, make sure he’s distracted throughout the coming days. I want him to enjoy life a little, to keep his thoughts away from darker paths. And John, I think you’ll need to have an overdue conversation with Stiles about his mother’s hobbies soon.” They both nod at Deaton as he leaves the pack be. Joining the rest of the police after making sure the pack is going to Stiles, the sheriff begins rounding up witness accounts & starts doling out possible suggestions amongst the more gossipy people to confuse the general consensus. This one will probably be classified as a mass-hysteria caused by bio-weaponry. Considering the history of the sickness at the school mere months ago, this wouldn’t be questioned too much, but it’ll probably draw attention from the FBI again. When is his job ever easy?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first dabble concerning this ship. I haven't seen anything of Teen Wolf yet, but have read quite a lot of fan-fics about this particular ship. Using all the elements these fics have in common concerning the behaviour of either character, I hope I have done a good job typifying them both!


End file.
